


Sweat

by purgtory (orphan_account)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 13:00:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8534032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/purgtory
Summary: Cas gets back from a run and decides to make a show of undressing.





	

Castiel didn’t expect to enjoy it as much as he did. The feeling of shoes tightly laced onto his feet, hitting the ground over and over. The blood pumping through his ears, gasping air into his lungs, sweat trickling down his body. Having the whole world reduced to one step in front of another, and simultaneously expanded so that he noticed every tiny detail.

 

He doesn’t think about how he needs air now. How his muscles don’t just “do” things. How he can’t hear and see everything now. How he forgets and thinks and _feels_.

 

Castiel runs.

 

He runs past people and animals, past supermarkets and homes and parks and stores. He runs over what feels like every possible colour of pavement, and a fair share of tarmac too. He smells fresh air and smoky air and that special cool air that only exists early in the morning. He runs as if there is nothing else in the world that he could possibly do. He slows down when spots start edging into his vision and speeds up when his breath comes a little too easily. It’s like the world bends around him.

 

And he feels so alive.

 

He sprinted the last hundred metres back to the bunker. He took a few strides to come to rest. Stars sparked in front of his eyes – he stopped too fast. He walked down the stairs and his legs itched to keep running. They walked of their own accord through the halls, making Castiel feel as though they weren’t connected to the rest of him.

 

He opened the door of their room as quietly as he could, hoping it wouldn’t creak. Dean was still sprawled on the bed, tangled in the sheets. Castiel half-suspected he was pretending to be asleep.

 

His breath began to even out as he waited a few minutes, simply standing there. Dean’s breath was a little too even. And he rolled over the moment Castiel turned his back. There was little doubt in his mind that Dean was awake.

 

Castiel decided to give him a show.

 

With his back still turned, Castiel stretched out his arms in a fairly accurate mockery of a yawn. He felt a crack or two, but not the painful kind. He curled his wrists around in circles, rolled his neck. Dean was going to think he was simply cooling down, stretching to avoid tension in the muscles. Which he would have to do, of course. Later.

 

Slipping his fingers under the hem of his shirt, he teased it is lightly, revealing his sweaty torso inch by inch. It dragged up his back, occasionally catching on the skin, before he finally had to get an actual grip on the hem and tug it over his head. Tempted as he was to peg it at Dean, Castiel threw it to the side in faux nonchalance. He heard the sheets rustle faintly. There wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that Dean was wide awake now.

 

Castiel started on the next logical item of clothing to remove – his shoes. He unlaced them as quickly as he could, and tore off his socks just as fast. Castiel didn’t really see the sexual appeal of removing shoes, and Dean being Dean, he probably didn’t either. Although Dean probably appreciated his bent-over form.

 

The next point of call was, of course, the jogging shorts. He looped his thumbs into the slightly elastic waistband, letting them rest for a moment. He caught the sound of Dean inhaling a little more sharply than usual. In anticipation, more than likely.

 

He left his hands idle until he thought Dean was on the verge of coming clean and asking him to just take them off already. Only then did he begin to slide them down over his waist. He swung his hips just the slightest bit.

 

Strangely enough, he wasn’t embarrassed. It happened so naturally, and hell, he liked it.

 

He was going so achingly slow that he was turning himself on. The pants slid over his ass and only then did he go more quickly, stepping out of them and beginning the same process for his undershorts.

 

Before long they were around his ankles. Castiel stepped out of them, but remained with his back towards Dean.

 

“You know, Dean, you’re a terrible actor.”

 

“Huh,” muttered Dean, as he comprehended just how much he’d been played. “You know, Cas, you’d make a hell of a stripper.”

 

“You think?”

 

“Yeah. The running suits you. A lot.”

 

“Shall I take that to mean you want a closer look?”

 

“Hell yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! It is I, the_nat_that_got_the_canary. I have simply changed my name on here, sorry for confusion. ALSO, sorry for leaving you hanging like that. I tried to write the smutty bit and it didn't work :(


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